I wrote this 2 weeks ago and never posted it out of the fear that people would assume shit about me, my relationship, my life, whatever. It doesn’t matter; it is not my job to make you understand.
“Next week I turn 23.
This morning I woke up at 5am and looked out my window and thought “the sun is coming up over the city and i am in love with everything that you are.”
I am overwhelmed by the wonderfulness that is my stupid little life. How lucky am I to be so loved and supported by so many people? Who said that I deserved this love? I am sitting in a pile of clean laundry I need to fold, crying, typing this on my fucking phone, completely overcome with emotion—which truly never happens.
Last year I exercised and dieted until my body collapsed. I stared at myself for hours in the mirror until I could no longer see straight. I hated myself for absolutely everything and nothing all at once. I ended the most abusive relationship of my life and swore off love and steeled myself against everything. I could not ever imagine I’d be where I am now.
I’m 4 months out, technically, from my last major body dysmorphia episode. And as much as older adults like to remind me of how “inappropriate” or “unprofessional” my social media is, it’s also the thing that really pulled me through.
I feel lucky to get to work where I do, to get to produce a play with some of my best friends, to have found a partner that makes me feel like myself 100% of the time. I am the luckiest to no longer hate myself.
I wanna wrap this post up in a better way than I am. It’s a complete mess and I know it. But I don’t think there’s much else to say.
It’s my birthday week, so post a nude, get a tattoo, or fall the fuck in love. Tell the world. Or don’t. I don’t really give a shit either way :)”